


Elevator Music

by purgatorydotexe



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Boners, Fade to black sex, Friends With Benefits, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, How Do I Tag, M/M, Pavlov's dogs, Sex (mentioned), blow jobs (mentioned), this is just a silly thing my partner and i talked about so i wrote it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27512515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purgatorydotexe/pseuds/purgatorydotexe
Summary: In which Hanzo accidentally trains McCree like a dog.(College AU)
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 4
Kudos: 106





	Elevator Music

**Author's Note:**

> i think this is the first time i've ever finished an overwatch fic. wow.
> 
> anyway tl;dr if you know about pavlov's dogs you know where this is going.
> 
> i'm not sorry lmao.

“We doin’ this or what?” 

Hanzo chuckled, and it was  _ sin _ . 

Meeting Hanzo Shimada was definitely not on Jesse McCree’s college  _ to-do _ list. In fact, after hearing all of the scattered puzzle pieces of Genji’s past — usually while he was halfway down the road to being black out drunk — McCree was  _ convinced _ that Hanzo Shimada was  _ stuck up _ ,  _ ass-backwards _ , and  _ a miserable piece of shit _ .

He came to these opinions naturally, of course; he was in no rush to have himself proved right or wrong. But after everything said, seeing the bastard at Genji’s 21st birthday party  _ definitely _ wasn’t something he was expecting. 

He  _ also _ wasn’t expecting Hanzo Shimada to be fucking  _ ripped _ , with a full tattoo sleeve of a dragon dancing in storm clouds ripping down his arm like  _ lightning _ . 

“What’s he doin’ here?” McCree had hissed, and Genji only gave him a wry smile and a shrug. “He  _ is _ my brother.” And as though that was the only explanation necessary, he’d strutted up to Hanzo and embraced the other man in what could only be described as a bear hug. Dragon hug? Hanzo looked a little stiff, but his face didn’t read the discomfort McCree thought it would’ve and he wrapped his arms around his brother just as tight, give or take a beat. 

“Patience is something you seem to lack, Jesse McCree.”

“I have all the patience in the world for people who aren’t  _ cock teases. _ ”

“Very well,” Hanzo’s eyes pierced something through him that he didn’t really  _ like _ , it felt painful, like he was an animal in a cage being watched— at the same time fixated in place by his gaze. “Let me put on some music first.” 

Hanzo stood from where he was previously kneeling on the shitty dorm bed, taking the hand that was currently palming at McCree’s crotch with him and Jesse swore softly under his breath, adjusting himself. Falling into bed with Hanzo at that same party was  _ also _ not on his to-do list. But when a man like that starts staring you down something fierce from across the room, eating you up with his eyes, what real choice did he have but to get on his knees and suck his cock?

_ Several _ . Some sane part of his mind hummed and just like he did when Hanzo first carved out a hole in his throat that his perfect cock fit into like a glove, Jesse McCree ignored himself. 

He watched Hanzo fiddle with the honest to god  _ cassette player _ that sat across the room on his dark oak dresser for a minute or two, before soft, smooth jazz started pouring out of the speakers. When he turned around again, he pulled the tight muscle shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Jesse sucked in a breath. He’d never get used to seeing those tits bared to the world like that. 

Hanzo quirked his brow at him, sauntering towards the bed with forced causality. “I thought you were in a rush,  _ Jesse _ .” Hanzo purred and it sent shivers running down his spine, reflexively arching his back when Hanzo climbed on top of him. “I mean— kind of darlin’, you got me all keyed up.” 

“Then why are your pants still on?”

The speed at which Jesse chucked them off and over Hanzo’s head, nearly taking out the shitty dorm light fixture with it, was probably mach 5.

* * *

  
  


Jesse found out— rather quickly— that Hanzo wasn’t a man who appreciated a good cuddle. Even if the two of them didn’t exactly see eye to eye outside of the bedroom, that didn’t mean he  _ didn’t _ want to hold him for those fleeting seconds in the afterglow when both of them were sated and docile. 

Wait. 

He tried not to think too much of it when Hanzo stood up from the bed after he tossed the condom in the trash, quickly locating his jeans and shirt. Still feeling like his guts were turned inside out, Jesse slowly rose to do the same until a big hand on his chest stopped him. 

“Huh?” He asked, dumbly. 

“You can barely walk.” Hanzo gave him a pointed look, though the corners of his lips quirked to repress what Jesse knew would be a smug smile. “I have class. Stay.” An order. On a good day he would’ve protested, however, with his legs still effectively jelly, his body sunk back down onto the mattress, pants half on. Hanzo raised an eyebrow, making a gesture. 

“Remove those as well.” Satisfied when Jesse shucked his pants once more, he turned the music on the cassette up on the way out, and the door shut softly behind him. McCree looked up at the ceiling, the jazz playing softly around him, cradling him like a particularly warm blanket— or like the whiskey that hit the pit of his stomach the night of Genji’s birthday, when Hanzo first came over to the drinks table. 

_ Why _ did he come over? Jesse, still wondered about it. He turned it over awhile, before his mind finally got tired of it and he drifted off, curled in Hanzo’s sheets. 

* * *

  
  


“So you’re sleeping with Genji’s brother.”

That really wasn’t how he wanted to start this conversation with Fareeha, but she was his best friend and nothing got past her. She was at the campus, touring, even though she already decided she was coming to this school when Jesse got in — “Someone has to keep you out of trouble.” she’d remarked. 

“Don’t really know if a kid your age should know about sleepin’ around but…”

The elbow in his ribs was well worth it.

“I’m 18, not 12, you ass.”

“Does Ana know you curse?” He teased instead and Fareeha growled, warningly at him. For a kid, she was big— always was, honestly— and her muscles made McCree’s thrice times at the gym per week look absolutely shrimpy by comparison. Just like other people he knew. He let out a big sigh. 

“I’unno.” Jesse started down into his coffee cup, ruefully empty, and stood to toss it into the nearby bin. “I mean— we sleep together but he’s all weird about it.” 

“He’s Genji’s brother.” Fareeha shrugged, as though repeating the sentiment made it make perfect sense. “He does calculus for fun.  _ By choice _ .” McCree wrinkled his nose. “Doubt that. Genji has to be exaggerating.”

“He told me he was a business major with a minor in mathematics.” Jesse groaned, nearly slamming his head onto the cafeteria table and jostling his hat clean off with it. “God, no wonder he plays smooth jazz when we fuck.” Fareeha snorted in surprise above him and Jesse turned his head several times, shaking his hat off with little remorse. 

“From a  _ cassette.”  _ Jesse punctuated. “You don’t even know what that  _ is _ , Ree.” She rolled her eyes. “Again— 18, not 12, Jess. Rein has one.”

“You sure he doesn’t have a phonograph?” The two snickered at the small jab, but their conversation was cut short when a hand suddenly appeared beside them with little preamble, brandishing the hat that Jesse must’ve knocked onto the floor in his frustrated romp. It didn’t take a genius to know who the hand was connected to, since usually, Jesse would be up in Hanzo’s dorm this time of day, begging and crying to the lord himself. He looked up at Hanzo and their eyes met— and  _ fuck _ he wished he hadn’t looked. His eyes were intense— stormier than usual today, and Jesse knew he was in for it. 

Unaware— more than likely uncaring — of the atmosphere, Fareeha slurped her cafeteria brand smoothie loudly and Hanzo angled his body slightly to include her in the potential conversation. Fareeha started. 

“You must be Hanzo, Genji’s brother right?” Hanzo nodded, curt. “And you, Miss…?”

“Fareeha, drop the Miss.” She held out her hand and gripped firmly. Both of them raised eyebrows at each other, seeming to assess the other’s strength in some weird dick/pussy measuring contest. “A pleasure. I believe Genji mentioned you would be at his party. I didn’t see you.”

“Work. Jesse here ditched me for said party.” She looked at him pointedly— still hadn’t forgiven him, he guessed and he chuckled awkwardly, swiping his hat from Hanzo’s opposite hand so he could hide his eyes under it. 

Guilty habit. 

“I told you I was sorry already, Ree.” He grumbled. Hanzo chuckled and it was more of a bark. “I see he makes it a habit of ‘ditching’.”  _ Fuck _ , that stung. Maybe he should’ve text Hanzo that he’d be late. Fareeha looked at Jesse with an amused, but almost pitying eye. She was saying his prayers for him. He mentally thanked her.

“I’ll get out of your hair though, so you can rip him a new asshole. I gotta be back with the tour group in 5.” Fareeha reached over the table and practically hauled Jesse up, hugging him something fierce and he hugged her back just as tightly. 

“Low blow.” He whispered into her bob and she pat his back. “Good luck!” They parted after another second or two, then Fareeha was waving to both of them and wandering back over to the main entrance of the cafeteria where a small group was beginning to gather. 

Then there left two.

Jesse adjusted his hat from where Fareeha jostled it and looked over at Hanzo. 

“Sorry— didn’t mean ta stand ya up sugar, I didn’t realize Ree would be on campus until she called me.”

“You are fine.” The storm clouds against his irises were still rolling and Jesse bit his lip. “Hate ta break it to ya sug, but your face ain’t really screaming ‘fine’ to me right now.” Hanzo’s gaze shifted, left, right, center, left again. Then, he held his hand out for Jesse to take. He took it. Hanzo hauled him up.

“I did grow tired of waiting, however…” Hanzo licked his lips and McCree’s mouth suddenly went dry when Hanzo fixed him with a hooded stare. “Your room?” Jesse asked. Hanzo chuckled, “I have somewhere else in mind.” 

“Somewhere else” meant one of the hardly used chemistry rooms in the English building, room 61A. Why was there a chemistry lab in an English building? Because the architect that made this school was a drunkard, simple as that. He told Hanzo as much.

Hanzo’s real laugh was a breathy little thing— quiet, as though he’d become used to keeping it soft so no one would notice it. Jesse thought back on the times Genji talked about their upbringing: strict and cold. They could be punished for the smallest offense, and it’s something Hanzo really took to heart it seemed. Genji’s laugh was as open as he was. Hanzo, as big as he was, laughed into himself, hardly even opening his mouth to let the sound escape. 

He didn’t waste time pushing Jesse into the room, pulling out a— was that a fucking Walkman?! — from his back pocket. 

“I didn’t think you had a thing for uh—“ McCree glanced down at the device then back up to Hanzo who was doing that weird little mouth quirk again, and dammit one of these days Jesse would drag a smile out of his gloomy ass. “Antiques?” Hanzo supplied helpfully. He fiddled with the controls of it for a moment, before he finally placed the walkman on one of the lab desks nearest to them. The smooth jazz that Jesse was becoming accustomed to poured softly out of the tinny speaker, reverberating ambiently in the space around them. 

“I have always had an eye for them. They are… Charming. No different than your love of Westerns, if I had to compare.” 

“Paw always used to tell me there ain’t nothing like good liquor and an’ old fashioned ta keep ya company.” Jesse lowered himself on his knees, easy, and the jingle of Hanzo’s belt loops made his mouth water with promise. 

* * *

  
  


It took about one month for Jesse McCree to fall in love with Hanzo Shimada. Which was, frankly, longer than anyone would’ve pegged him for. They should be proud.

It didn’t help that they were constantly together now either. After a stupid kitchen fire in Hanzo’s building that set the damn thing ablaze, everyone in Gibraltar ended up being shuffled around the 2 other dorm buildings on campus: King’s Row — where Baptiste resided, and Chateau Guillard, where McCree called home. Unsurprisingly, Genji settled into Bap’s dorm room easy as pie (which was a given since they were dating), leaving Hanzo on his YEEHAW doormat. Jesse couldn’t blame him. Being assigned a room by the school would be a recipe for disaster on both their ends; Jesse didn’t want to share a bathroom with  _ strangers  _ again, he did that freshman year when he tried being in a frat house and he’d never wanted to live in another house with 26 men  _ again _ — and Hanzo didn’t like people. At all. Plus, they were… friends with benefits, or something like that. Made it easier to coordinate schedules. He wouldn’t want Hanzo to be subjected to his brother’s abject mushiness with his boyfriend either, no matter how well he and Bap got along.

While Hanzo only minutely wrinkled his nose at McCree’s obscene number of band posters and Western paraphernalia, he’d been quite gracious with suddenly sharing a space. The man didn’t take up much space himself— claiming to prefer traveling light. The cassette, Walkman, and a few books and journals were perhaps the only personal items he truly  _ owned  _ aside from the clothes on his back, or the ones currently sharing Jesse’s dresser. They stayed up late together, with Hanzo forcing him to study, or playing video games Hanzo was always better than him at, or watching movies at 3am when they both had 8ams the next morning. He even made Jesse coffee when he inevitably overslept after said movie nights, which honestly meant more to Jesse personally than he may ever admit— to himself, or otherwise. 

All in all— Hanzo was the perfect package. 

Why did he ever think he was miserable and ass-backwards again?

* * *

It was on such a Saturday that Jesse dragged himself alive after staying up well past what his circadian rhythm would normally allow, following his nose to the tiny kitchenette. There, he found Hanzo: freshly showered and shaven after his morning run, humming along to the smooth jazz from his cassette player while flipping neat, perfect little omelettes and slicing them with deadly precision once they were outside of their pan. 

“Mornin’.” Jesse mumbled, and Hanzo quirked his lips and pushed his favorite brown mug with spurs towards him. Jesse laughed and took the cup, whirling the spurs absently with his thumb. “Already know I’m a bitch without coffee, huh?” He took a sip and groaned— it was the Amari’s Deep Desert blend that he only used on Saturday’s. Damn, Hanzo was perfect. Hanzo chuckled in return, finally turning off the stove. “Genji warned me about how ‘bitchy’ you can be.” 

“Ouch! Thrown under the bus by my own best friend!”

“How did you all become acquainted?” Hanzo wasn’t looking at him, but there was a weird lilt to his voice that gave McCree pause. Jesse watched as his steady hands separated the little omelettes onto two separate plates, thanking him in surprise when Hanzo handed him one. They meandered out into the living room where silence settled over them for a beat, both preoccupied with their steaming dishes. 

“Any reason why ya ask?” Jesse resumed their conversation when they both remembered to  _ breathe _ , swirling his coffee one-handed. “I thought Genji told ya already.”

“No.” Hanzo set his plate down on the coffee table, his chopsticks neatly set onto one side of the plate. Jesse didn’t know why, but it somehow looked like fine dining etiquette to do so. He tried to mimic it with his fork and knife, and Hanzo chuckled at his attempts, leaning over his lap to fix it. Feeling the  _ heat  _ of the other man so close to his crotch, combined with the unrelenting jazz in the background made Jesse’s cock throb something fierce. He needed to calm down. 

“Tha’s funny, I didn’t think he’d want  _ me _ to be the one to tell ya about it. Oh well— if he bitches about it later, tell him I was drunk.” Hanzo’s brow furrowed. “Is it an unpleasant story?” Jesse guffawed, waving a hand. “No! No, not at all. I jus know he’ll be embarrassed if you know.”

“‘ _ Genji _ ’ and ‘ _ embarrassment _ ’ are not two words I am familiar with occupying the same sentence.” Hanzo sat back, settling into the couch, large arms crossed over his chest, seeming to expect some grandiose tale about their first meeting. Seeing him look so bemused and content made Jesse wish the story was some grand telling he could regale Hanzo with, if to keep his sharp gaze on him a little while longer. 

“Don’t get too comfortable, now, ‘s not a long story. We just matched on Grindr.”

“Grindr.” Hanzo repeated. His expression was blank, as though he’d…

“Never heard of Grindr?  _ Really _ ?” 

Hanzo looked somewhat disgusted by the time Jesse finished explaining it to him, along with a few choice stories about some bad almost-hookups he’d found on there, but it was worth airing out his dirty laundry to see his Adam's apple bob when he laughed aloud. In the safety of their dorm room, his laugh was louder, if still a bit reserved, and Jesse began to wonder where the “Hanzo has been traumatized into reservation” and “Hanzo is a reserved person in general” line was drawn into the sand.

“So…” Hanzo finally said, shaking his head at Jesse’s final story which involved a cat, sneaking out of someone’s bedroom window and animal crackers, “You and my brother had sex.” It was a statement and McCree snorted.

“Hell no! We tried flirting, but even over message it felt too damn uncomfortable. I invited him out for drinks and we hung out instead. Been friends ever since.”

“I see. That is good to know.” 

“Why? You be jealous or somethin’?” Jesse hated how his mind desperately wanted to hear—

“Of course.” Jesse started. Hanzo said it so firmly, casually, and matter-of-factly, as though he hadn’t just torn Jesse’s heartbeat asunder. “... Didn’t take ya to be the jealous type.”

“I am quite… Possessive.” Hanzo admitted with a small admonishing of his hand before sticking it through his hair. The strands ran across it like silk, and Jesse was suddenly very aware of Hanzo’s hair  _ for once _ being down and that he’d been stealing some of his shampoo. It felt so much different scenting it on Hanzo, that was for sure, and Jesse took a breath in, deep, then exhaled with a clipped laugh. 

“With all the people ya fuck, or am I just special?”

“I haven’t “fucked” anyone else, as you so crudely put it.” Hanzo turned his nose up at the mere suggestion of it, and Jesse would’ve gone into his usual bit of teasing him about his emperor complex, had he not been too busy trying to digest Hanzo admitting to him he was a  _ virgin _ when he—

“Ya mean to tell me,” Jesse pointed at him. “That at the party when you dragged me into that room—“

“That I was inexperienced? Yes.” Hanzo shrugged, nonplussed. “I was more keen to ‘put my hands on you’ than fret about my lack of practical expertise.”

“Damn,” Jesse let out a little laugh at that, he had to, Hanzo was as straightforward as he always was. “I wish I had that mentality. I was shakin’ in my boots tha first time someone gave me a handjob.” 

“Oh?” Hanzo chuckled. “You are quite forward with your desires. I cannot conceive of you being shy.”

“I’m shy all the time around ya, Han, I jus don’t think ya see it.” Hanzo’s gaze returned to him, calculating, but quizzical. The jazz was beginning to swell into its final refrain and his dick was  _ aching _ something fierce in his jeans. He shifted, uncomfortably, trying to relieve the pressure, and Hanzo looked down, seeming to delight in the bulge that was growing in his pants. 

“Why don’t we save this conversation for later?” Hanzo purred, pushing the coffee table back with his foot so that he could settle himself between Jesse’s legs. He tugged his zipper down with his teeth, and the pressure letting off made Jesse hiss. “For it seems you are interested in something else right now.”

“Kinda hard not to be around you, Han.” He carded a hand through Hanzo’s loose hair. “Treatin’ me today?” After all, it wasn’t often that Hanzo got on his knees, not that Jesse minded. That man had a cock meant to be  _ worshipped _ . 

“You have been a good boy.” Hanzo teased and the cassette player restarted the song as Hanzo finally took the pressure off completely, exposing him to open air. “I think a reward is in order.”

If Jesse blacked out during it, he didn’t quite remember.

* * *

  
  


“You and my brother have been dancing around this for ages! Jesse McCree, if you do not tell him, I will.” 

“Ya can’t just do that Genj, come on!” 

The two of them stood at the bottom floor of the administrative building, as they needed to put in their final requests for class switching, should they need them, by 4pm. After a particularly satisfying romp with Hanzo a few hours before, Jesse agreed to come with Genji down to the offices so he could drop a class that was giving him grief. Naturally, Genji noticed his lax state, which led to asking how rooming with his brother was going… which led to Jesse professing his big, dumb, stupid crush on Hanzo to his little brother. His best friend. But Hanzo’s little brother all the same. 

“‘Come on’?” Genji laughed. “You’ve been  _ coming _ all this time!” McCree hit him, embarrassed flush covering his cheeks. Genji laughed harder, then pushed the button for the elevator so that they could head up to the eleventh floor. “What, it’s only true!” He continued. “Your dick has been getting in all the action. Do not neglect your heart, cowboy.”

“‘M not neglecting it.” He grumbled sorely. “I don’t even know if Hanzo feels the same way—“

“Do you really think my brother would just sleep with anyone if he did not find some attraction to them?” Genji deadpanned. The elevator arrived and hissed open and the two of them stepped on. Overhead, soft jazz music played, a tune that Jesse found himself tapping his foot to. 

“I mean naw, Han doesn’t seem the type, but,”

“I’ll stop you right there.” Genji held his hand up, halting the cowboy in whatever self deprecating spiel he was bound to go on, knowing him far too well. “I assure you— I have grown up with him after all. You are the first person I think Hanzo has genuinely taken a liking to.”

“Me?!” Jesse gesticulated at himself. “He insults my fashion sense all tha time!”

“Out of love, I’m sure.” Genji rolled his eyes. “You don’t know how many dates I tried to set him up on,”

“Ya tried to send him on blind dates?”

“— For so many years,”

“And they didn’t work out?” Genji sighed noisily through his nose. “They either did not work out, or my dearest  _ aniki  _ didn’t even bother to come. All of my hard work, wasted!” Jesse looked unimpressed and Genji shrugged, helpless. “How was I to know that his ‘type’ is unruly cow men that hardly remember to shave?”

“Hey!”

As they talked, a few people climbed on and off the elevator, causing a few moments of delay on their way up. By the two of them settled into a somewhat comfortable silence, the doors hissed open once more to reveal the advisor’s hall, and they stepped out together. Jesse nodded when Genji told him to stay put— it should only take a minute— and yanked a spare toothpick out of his pants to gnaw on it as he waited. 

He shifted, foot to foot, restless for some reason that he couldn’t place— hardly registering the uncomfortable, borderline dirty looks he received when people passed by. He kept tapping his foot, the song from the elevator playing on loop in his head but he couldn’t  _ place  _ it— just where had he heard this song—

“McCree!” He started when Genji waved a ring laden hand in front of his face, startling him from his thoughts. He blinked a few times, then rubbed his eyes.

“Shit, sorry Genj. Must’ve got lost in thought.”

“Thinking about what, I wonder?” Genji looked down and confused, Jesse followed his gaze leading straight to the very painful and obvious  _ boner  _ straining against his too tight jeans. 

“At least save those thoughts for your dorm room.” Genji teased and suddenly, Jesse found himself able to place the song from the elevator. 

“Fucking  _ hell _ , Genj.” He hissed, and dragged his friend back into the elevator, his whole face probably redder than the walls around them. Genji’s laughter echoed the reverberating thoughts of  _ you’re a goddamn dog _ bouncing around his head. 

* * *

  
  


“Hanzo?” Jesse called, bursting into their dorm room. 

The place was just as he left it: slight disarray with the remnants of their somewhat forgotten breakfast in the kitchenette sink, a haphazard movie or two lying on the couch, and an overall feeling of  _ homeliness  _ that came with seeing items of someone you loved strewn across the place making it feel lived in. Speaking of items— 

The damn cassette player sat like a cadaver in the middle of a crime scene; perched and preening like a particularly proud peacock in the middle of the coffee table. The  _ source _ of his embarrassment. He had half a mind to toss the thing out of the window, but he didn’t know how much Hanzo had paid for the thing in the first place, or if it was replaceable. Knowing that Hanzo and Genji came from a rich family however, made him not necessarily wanna try his luck BUT that didn’t stop him from glaring at the damn thing as he stomped past. 

He found Hanzo in the bedroom. Sitting on his bed, headphones on, walkman playing that same damn smooth jazz no doubt. However, it took him a moment to truly assess the situation. Hanzo’s cock in his hand was an afterthought, after he slammed the door closed behind him, and opened his mouth to truly rip into him—

“You too?” Hanzo rasped first, dragging his hand, twisting, up his shaft. Jesse’s words died in his throat and his very much present boner shoved it’s way to the front of his mind. All previous thoughts of telling Hanzo off disappeared from his mind as he crossed the room, fell to his knees, and satisfied the burning ache in his jaw.

* * *

  
  


In the aftermath of their lovemaking, Jesse rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, with Hanzo curled, dozing and satisfied, against his side. For the first time having topped the other man he should’ve felt  _ amazing _ , however he still felt his cheeks burning from how this started in the first place. 

“Ya trained me like a dog,” he finally rasped, and Hanzo opened an eye, looking up at him. “Trained you?” He had the nerve to ask. The  _ goddamn _ nerve.

“Ya know the elevator in the administrative building?” Hanzo nodded slowly. “Plays the same damn song ya got us listening to all the time.”

It took less than 30 seconds for Hanzo to seemingly put one and two together; he looked at Jesse, looked down at where the blanket was tastefully covering his goods from the chilled dormroom air, looked back up at him again, then let out the loudest guffaw that Jesse was sure that he’d heard from him to date.

“Hey now! It ain’t that funny!” 

But oh— it definitely was. Hanzo laughed louder, rolling over onto his other side away from Jesse, clutching his stomach. Even if he was embarrassed to all hell, hearing Hanzo laugh like that did make something in his heart sing. 

So he got his revenge by tackling him; an ensuring wrestling match leaving the nimble man perched atop him in the middle of the floor, still wheezing.

“You—”  _ Wheeze _ . “Cannot—”  _ Choke _ . “Best me, Jesse McCree.” 

“This just ain’t fair sugar!” Jesse whined, squirming under his powerful thighs. “I thought I caught ya off guard! First my pride— every girl in the damn building was looking at me like I was some kind of top-tier pervert. And then, ya won’t even let me get vengeance! This ain’t no way for a man to live, Han.”

“How about I make it up to you?” Before Jesse could ask  _ how  _ he intended to do that, with his ego wounded so, Hanzo leaned down, propping himself up on his elbows to curtain Jesse’s face with biceps and hair, then pressed a soft, warm kiss to his slack-jawed lips.

And well— Han ain’t never kissed him before. Never dreamed that he’d kiss him like  _ this _ . So Jesse indulged, bringing his arms around the other man’s back to wrap around him and hold him close like he was afraid otherwise, he’d get loose.

* * *

  
  


Hanzo Shimada was a lot of things.

He was still proud, still stubborn, still listened to that damn jazz every time they had sex, much to Jesse’s absolute chagrin (the bastard gave him a cheeky smile every time he pulled out the cassette player or his ancient ass walkman). But his private smiles and warm hands, and soft flush whenever Jesse looped his arms around him and crooned “ _ Darlin’, sweet love of mine”  _ at him, more than made up for it.

Even if he never took the elevator in the administrative building. Or any elevator. Ever again.


End file.
